A Victorian kitchen rebuilt in ink-navy and walnut beneath the home's original arched ceilings — with a hand-painted breakfast nook, a full butler's pantry, and a primary bath finished in black hex marble and brass.
This 1900s Victorian had the bones every buyer dreams about: arched doorways, tall ceilings, deep original millwork, and a kitchen that ignored all of it. The owners didn't want a kitchen that fought the house's age. They wanted one that felt like it had always belonged there, just finally finished properly.
We rebuilt the galley kitchen end to end in a nearly-black navy shaker, paired with a book-matched walnut island and a hand-veined marble that runs the full height of the backsplash. Unlacquered brass hardware and a trio of brass-and-glass pendants nod to the home's period without copying it.
A wall of glass-front and open storage, styled with the owners' own ceramics and books, replaced a run of dead space next to the range. In the adjoining nook, a built-in banquette was wrapped in a hand-painted tree mural that turns a small breakfast corner into the room everyone actually wants to sit in.
"We didn't want it to look renovated. We wanted it to look like it was always this good."
Down the hall, a compact butler's pantry now carries everything the showpiece kitchen doesn't need to: a prep sink, a built-in Miele coffee system, open bar shelving, and the household's everyday storage. It's the reason the kitchen itself never looks cluttered.
Upstairs, the primary bath was rebuilt around a floating walnut vanity, a hand-set black hexagon mosaic wall, and a fully brass-fitted glass shower beside a clawfoot soaking tub. It's the one room in the house that trades the Victorian's warmth for something cooler and quieter.
They understood exactly what we meant by "period-appropriate but not precious." The kitchen feels like it was always part of the house, and the pantry means we never have to see the mess. It's the room we show people first now.
